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Posted on July 7, 2014 by Isabella Cecconi

In a mid summer night I opened and browsed what days before had arrived as a parcel. In touching it, a pleasant silky feeling coming from the canvas of the black coated-in-cloth cover.

In the first half of the book, the following:


Void of everything that is important. I am trying to think about the “road.” I cannot. I am completely exhausted. 
All in all, I am going only because of the weather. The prospect of wind, snow, and my flashes on the beach did not let me sleep. 
Besides, I am afraid of the few days of thinking only about her, and this way I will have the Baltic Sea.
My Baltic Sea. 
Instead of.

Swell is a tale of the untold, a beating documentary of a boy and his heart, a story of survival and attempt to surviving. It’s the portrait of a lone adventurer in the dark real world, where feelings hurt as much as memories. A tale of the unplanned, a story of love reconstruction, of metamortphosis. Swell is a love story where the author’ s third eye is constantly fulfilled by a great regenerating presence: the Baltic Sea. Its giant waves and cold turboleance mirror the photographer’s state of mind and thoughts, in a harmony of forces. Pictures are simple, out-of-common dash of poetry.

 “Swell” by Mateusz Sarello, is a squared little masterpiece, a chicken soup for the heart, an invincible summer, in the midst of winter.


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